[h2]Alessa Heather: Streets of Denver[/h2]
'You'll be alright,' Messiah promised, trying to sound as positive as she could to help ease off any further discomfort, accompanied by a bit of backrubbing with the hand that was previously on Ira's shoulder before it was eventually removed. 'You're a good shot with that gun, I think. Hey, if it makes you feel better, we could try discussing possible ability enhancements after the mission, eh?' Anything else she'd planned to say was interrupted by Tulpa's announcement that she could scout, with her ability that is... and then, a brief flash of light very similar to what had come before, in the elevator. Was that Tulpa's ability, then? Some sort of long-distance projection? It seemed like it, since she eventually came up with the suggestion that the thugs were armed with mostly melee weapons... and had half a dozen hostages or so. Shortly upped to eight by Sonar. Not a great situation, then.

Still, it seemed like Sonar, ever the consummate leader, had everything figured out already. Tulpa would manifest her projection as a distraction to the thugs; Martyr, Epsilon and Sonar himself would lead the charge against the small army; and Messiah and Margrave, alongside Tulpa herself, would be set as, essentially, backup guards, just in case any slipped by the main group or Tulpa's projection in an effort to escape the sewer system. Messiah half-wondered whether this was to keep them both out of the way - Tulpa was likely capable enough to keep herself reasonably safe, but if her power was in her projection, she would be comparatively squishy; Messiah's own potential lethality was directly mentioned, with regards to Eyeblight specifically, though it seemed more directed at Elliot than herself; and though Margrave was charged with keeping Messiah safe, and seemed confident enough in his ability to defend her, she admitted to herself that she was hard-pressed to think of any reasonable scenarios in which he would protect her better than she'd protect herself.

Though that hardly pardoned Dean's next comment. She knew the two capes didn't exactly get along, but it wasn't like Elliot's power was utterly useless! And on a mission, at that. Tight-lipped and frowning (though it wasn't exactly visible behind the light from her eyes), Messiah shook her head disapprovingly in Martyr's direction, not necessarily wanting to put him down more than was necessary for the time being. Epsilon, at least, put him straight on the topic of what Margrave could and could not convert into toy form. Sadly, that did exclude wheat, and never mind the Manton Effect on top of that. Which was a pity, since turning the scarecrow into, say, an action figure might have been particularly useful, if he started attacking assault team B after all.

Alessa was a bit surprised when Tulpa announced that she was "ready". Whatever that encompassed. So quickly, and what had she done to become "ready", after all? Perhaps something to do with the projection... Alessa hoped she'd get to see the projection in action. It seemed like an interesting ability.

With that in mind, it seemed like the only person left to comment on Sonar's strategy was herself. 'Well, it sounds like a solid plan to me,' she said confidently. 'I don't see why it shouldn't work as intended.' [i]Not to jinx it or anything,[/i] she added quietly, though honestly, that sort of superstition was pretty backward in her mind. Unless some precognitive Thinker had gotten involved, she was sure there was nothing to worry about.

[hr]

[h2]Raymond Haywood: Icehouse Hideout[/h2]
Literally freezing cold to the touch. Raymond could only imagine, as he nodded to the target's assertion about his powers and flexed his now-cold hand, that the man might be particularly dangerous if he wasn't taken out immediately. He did, however, have a plan for that... though he'd need one or both knives to pull it off without deafening everybody in the room. If those failed to get through the target's armour, well, they might all be in trouble.

That said, Chatterbox really was good at keeping the victim occupied. Alas, Headhunter saw no opportunity in which he could safely draw his weapons and strike whilst they talked- mostly the one talking at the other, really- and by the time he did, the Broker had been brought into the equation. The target's positive emotions immediately gave way to negative, and Headhunter decided he'd wait just a little while longer to make his move, remaining relatively unbothered as the target turned to look at each other cape in turn. Finally, his situation clicked, and he turned to attack the Broker at point blank range.

And missed completely. Almost inconceivable, but Raymond wasn't about to question it. As the Broker grasped the target's hand, he knew now was about the time to do his thing; silently, he drew both his knives, flipping them so both blades pointed up, and began to tread quietly toward the restrained man, noting the Broker's suddenly aggressive manner. Not one to get on the wrong side of. Almost before his final sentence was completed, Headhunter lunged, slamming both blades point-first into the man's neck. Be it miracle or shoddy armour design, both weapons slammed hilt-deep through the target's neck, and he yanked both weapons round and back to practically decapitate the target outright, just short of severing the spinal cord. No risks needed to be taken, even if the cape seemed powerless in the Broker's grasp. For good measure, Headhunter wrenched the right hand knife free, only to impale some other points in the target's neck five more times in sequence, before finally pulling both weapons away and allowing the man to fall limp to the ground. KA-BAR knives, then: thirty centimeters of good combat steel, and seemingly more than sufficient to pierce light body armour, at least at the joints.

[i]That said,[/i] he considered as he knelt down to wipe his blades clean on the target's clothing, [i]perhaps for next time I ought to acquire a more powerful weapon.[/i] If this happened again, and the target was more heavily armoured, or worse a damage-resistant Brute... the end result would be rather bad, he imagined. Now, what would make for a good gun under those circumstances... a handgun, of course, it'd need to be very strong at short range, ideally a pistol rather than a revolver for ease of reloading... ah, that was a thought.

'I think, Broker,' Headhunter stated, returning the KA-BARs to their sheaths and standing upright, 'that I would like to commission you to acquire a gun for me, if it's not too forward of me to ask. IMI Desert Eagle, Mark XIX, chambered for the .50 Action Express cartridge, plus an appropriate sheath and at least seven clips of ammunition. Time is not necessarily an issue in this matter. I imagine the cost of doing so could be removed from my payment for the recent hit.' Asking others to acquire guns for him was certainly a rare thing, but since he would likely be sent out on a mission sooner rather than later, he supposed it would be an efficient way for the requisite gun to be acquired as soon as possible. And as had already been established, money was no object in this particular job.